


In Which A Bath Is Taken

by being_alive



Category: Tanz der Vampire - Steinman/Kunze
Genre: F/M, I'm Bad At Titles, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 03:59:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17236991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/being_alive/pseuds/being_alive
Summary: "Bath bombs," you state simply, suppressing a smile at the look on his face. Sometimes you forget just how much older he is than you, that's he's got centuries on you instead of just the physical twenty-odd years, that the castle hasn't always had running water and that he didn't even know what the internet was until perhaps ten years ago, at least according to Herbert."Bath...bombs?" He asks, staring down at the plastic-wrapped orb in his hand.





	In Which A Bath Is Taken

**Author's Note:**

> It feels like it's been a very long time since I've written anything this short.

You've known the Graf von Krolock for some time now, known in both a friendly sense and known in a _different_ sense, and during this entire time, you and he have never taken a bath together. You've been in the room while he bathed and he's been in the room while you bathed, but both of you have yet to be in the bathtub at the same time. Until now, at least. Now you and he both stand in your bathroom in his castle, both wearing nothing but bathrobes.

You wear a simple light blue robe, while his is red and adorned with cartoonish bats. Herbert had purchased it for him as a gift, mostly as a joke, but to your surprise and Herbert's, the Graf actually took a liking to it. Currently, you're kneeling on the ledge of the bathtub, running the water and trying to decide on the perfect temperature.

"What are these?" The Graf asks from behind you. You adjust the knob so that the water is just slightly warmer before asking, "What are what?"

"These," he says, unhelpfully. You sigh and stand up straight, before turning to look at him. There's a perplexed expression on his face and a bath bomb in his hand. You'd forgotten about the bowl filled with them that resides on the top of a set of shelves. 

"Bath bombs," you state simply, suppressing a smile at the look on his face. Sometimes you forget just how much older he is than you, that's he's got centuries on you instead of just the physical twenty-odd years, that the castle hasn't always had running water and that he didn't even know what the internet was until perhaps ten years ago, at least according to Herbert.

"Bath...bombs?" He asks, staring down at the plastic-wrapped orb in his hand.

"Bath bombs," you repeat, taking it from him and turning it over in your hand as you explain, "Basically, you put one in the bath water, it fizzes, and turns the water whatever color it is, along with smelling nice. For example, this one smells like lemons and turns the water yellow."

The Graf states at you, that same expression still on his face as he asks, "Why would anyone want to use those?" 

You shrug and reply, "They're fun."

"Fun?" The Graf echoes, raising his eyebrows. You chuckle, shaking your head, and say, "Yes, fun. Some of us actually like things because they're fun."

He scowls at you and you laugh once more before continuing, "Bath bombs are fun because they change the color of the water, of course, and also because some of them contain glitter or some surprise item in the center."

You laugh again, this time at the way his face twists when you say the word glitter, and then add, "Plus they're made with oils and stuff to help make your skin soft."

"But you're already soft," the Graf says, his eyebrows drawing together, and hand the bath bomb back to him.

"Thank you," you say, smiling, and turn around to turn the water off. As you turn back around to look at him, you say, "If you want, we can use one. Just take your pick."

"And you're absolutely certain that these only change the color of the water and not the color of you?" He asks, placing the yellow bath bomb back into the bowl with the others.

"I mean, they're not supposed to, though one did tinge Herbert's hair blue once," you say, and the Graf smiles and shakes his head. You're not worried about it happening to him, because his dark hair is the complete opposite of his son's very light blond hair, and the fact that he hasn't asked you another question means he probably isn't either. You untie the strings of your bathrobe and let it slide off of you and fall to the floor and then step into the bathtub as the Graf turns and studies the bowl full of bath bombs.

You lean back just far enough to wet your hair and then sit back up so that he can join you. After several long moments of you simply sitting there and waiting for him, he finally turns around with a deep blue bath bomb clasped in his long, pale hands. The Graf hands it to you and you unwrap it, placing the plastic outside of the bathtub to be disposed of later, while he finally disrobes and steps into the water behind you. You hold the bath bomb while he gets settled in, sitting down with one long leg on either side of both of yours.

"Ready?" You ask, glancing back at him. He nods, strands of his hair brushing against your back, and replies, "Go on."

You lower the bath bomb into the water and feel the Graf jump slightly behind you as it begins fizzing and the water begins to become saturated with color.

"Modern inventions astound me sometimes," he says with a laugh, reaching forward to touch the now smaller bath bomb. 

"Just sometimes?" You ask, smiling. The Graf chuckles, low in his throat, before saying, "Hush."

"Hushing," you reply, and then do so, letting go of what remains of the bath bomb so that it can float freely. Before long, it is all but gone and the water is a deep, dark blue interspersed with the sheen of glitter. You smile at the sight of it, already imagining the jokes Herbert will no doubt make once he sees the Graf with glitter on him.

You lean back into the Graf, resting your head against his chest as he idly traces circular patterns on your thigh with his index finger. You close your eyes and sigh in contentment because the water is perfectly warm and the bath bomb turned the water soft and because you're with the vampire you love most, wondering why you and he didn't do this sooner, only to open your eyes again when his finger begins to move closer and closer to your inner thigh.

"May I?" He asks, voice low, and you know exactly what he's asking of you. Heat pools low inside you just from the thought alone.

"Yes," you reply, quickly, before adding, "Just, ah, no insertion. As much as I like bath bombs, I'd rather not chance getting any of the water actually inside me."

"That's understandable," he replies, and then his hand is disappearing into the dark blue of the water between your thighs. It doesn't take long for his hand to find your sex, his fingers brushing over the lips before settling on your clit. You moan just from that slight touch alone, your head falling back to rest against his shoulder as he circles your clit with his index finger, the oils in water helping touch more even more smoothly than it normally does. He places a row of kisses upon your shoulder, leading up to your neck. 

His finger circles harder and faster on your clit and he brings his other hand up to cup your one of your breasts, his thumb brushing over your nipple before he pinches it just lightly between his thumb and forefinger. You moan again, pleasure building inside of you at the feeling of his hands upon you, at the feeling of his finger rubbing circles upon and around your clit and at the feeling of his hand upon your breast as he rolls the stiff peak of your nipple between his wonderful fingers. His kisses turn harder as well, until you can feel the points of his teeth scraping against spot you're sure will show marks come the next evening. 

You move your hips in time with his finger against you as best as you can, chasing the feeling that's just out of reach, and then finally, finally, after what feels like an impossibly long time even if the reality is really the opposite, you reach that feeling, pleasure surging through you as your orgasm crashes over you. You moan, so loudly that you're sure Herbert will be making jokes at your expense the next time you see him, and you can feel the Graf smile against your neck. After your orgasm subsides and you come completely back to your senses, you notice that behind you, the Graf is hard.

"Do you want me to take care of that for you?" You ask, leaning back just a little bit more so you can feel his cock press more firmly against you.

"Not now. Though I do admit that I'm beginning to see how these baths bombs are fun, I fully intend to make love to you until neither of us can walk straight after we're done in here," he says, his hair brushing against your shoulders as he leans forward and presses another kiss to your neck.


End file.
